


Victor's City

by LittleLadyLokiStark



Category: Role-Playing Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:16:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLadyLokiStark/pseuds/LittleLadyLokiStark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story written by my husband let me know what you think? Cause if he gets enough feed back he will continue it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victor's City

Victor’s City

 

The sun rises on another day. The light of my candle is waning. I stand from my desk my eyes squinting skin smoking from the suns bright rays peaking past my blinds.

“I hate the sun so. Why does it always have to ruin my evenings?”

I ask as I stand once again stretching my back and neck.

“My oh my I am going to have to wake the others soon.”

You see I am not a day person. I love the night life. To be honest I don’t have much of a choice in the matter. You see my blood will boil if the sun stands in my way for too long, and it would seem that it has no thoughts of stepping aside. So my job now is to dodge the windows the best I can wake my hairy friend from his slumber and find my pile of dirt I call home and lay my weary head. Yes, you might call me one of the devils spawn…or maybe a prince of darkness…others simply call me a vampire.

               My name is Pike. I live in a modest city nothing to out of the ordinary. Well, not for a vampire you see my little town is just a wee off you might say. This town is called home by many creatures of the fey.  Yes, you see it is rumored that this fair town was founded by a young man with great magic. His name was unknown his title was game master. You see each of us has come from a game so to speak. Each one different, but the same, odd I know, but it is completely true. You see the Game Master found a very special set of books, and character sheets. Any time a man’s name was wrote into these pages they were brought to life in these games. Each game when finished would then deposit the victors into this very town. Thus the town’s name Victor’s City.

               Today I start a journey not one of magic or gold, but of simple pen and paper. I seek to enlighten you on the paths each man of this fair city has taken. I will start with my story. The story of a simple elf whose life was twisted and ravaged; a tale that will bring tears to your eyes, and yet laughter to your hearts.  You see my life is never ending, well unless the sun finds my chambers or a wooden stake my heart. And the hairy guy over there he is Alexander he too has his own story I will tell at another time.

The Story of Pike

               Night falls on an elvish village far to the south of the sacred kingdom of Prophet.  A woman’s screams can be heard in the night’s chilled air. She gives birth to a young boy his skin as pail as the moon his hair as dark as a raven’s feathers. The name pike was given to him as a reminder of the weapon that his father once carried into battle.  He was an oddity in this village the first raven haired elf to be born in ages to this village, because of that he was considered a sign of reckoning and shunned by the village elder.

               His mother would raise him to the age of 10 before he is given his first taste of fighting. Many of the people in the village hated him. After all he was different from the rest. Many people feared teaching him to fight would doom the village; others believed that if he could defend himself they could cast him out with no ill will. The raven haired curse he was often called. His first taste of a fight came the first day of training. Another young man charged him wooden sword in hand striking poor Pike in the side of the jaw. His ears ringing his eyes fluttering he lay defenseless as the boy continued his assault.

               This punishment would ensue countless times day after day for months. Pikes mind was full of hatred and fear. He wanted to strike back, but if he hurt the young man on the assault wouldn’t the village call the reckoning starting and cast him out? What was a poor child to do but take the abuse. However he got cunning realizing he was quicker than his attackers. So, in response the young boy Pike learned to dodge their blows, and take the damage if he couldn’t. Soon however he also found that he was just as quick with a blade and moved up the ranks as a strong swordsman. However good he was with his swords and blades he always chose the bow first though. The feel of the wood in hand the tension of the string as he draws back, the sound of an arrow leaving the notch, the beautiful whistle the feathers made through the air. To pike it was like music.

 

               On Pike’s 15th birthday he was gifted his very own bow, this bow was old and ragged, but belonged to his father before his passing and meant the world to him. The young man would spend every free hour he had repairing the shambled bow for several months before he ever released his first arrow from its string.

“Nice shot my dear boy. The curse maybe, but perhaps you could indeed be our savior if the curse does come to pass.”

               This was always the words of his old teacher an elf by the name of Mithrendur. It was said that Mithrendur fought in the last great war over 200 years ago, and that his bow killed 1000 plus orc and goblin. This man was an idle to Pike. He meant everything to him, Pike wanted to be just like him. He learned to be just as deadly with a bow as Mithrendur, he even gained the favor of the village by the age of 20 gaining the title as head huntsmen.

               This is when his true story begins on his 20th birthday Pike was given a betrothed. The girls name was Siffna and she was the Tribal leader’s daughter. She was as beautiful as a summer morning hair as golden as the sun. She had always been there for Pike even when he was young. She never believed that he was to bring destruction to their tribe or village. She would clean his wounds after fights, was the mud from his hair after training sessions. There was little the beautiful Siffna wouldn’t do for her childhood hero Pike.

               You see as a child Pike saved Siffna’s life by pulling her from a rapid running stream. She had simply fallen in while gathering water from the stream, but being a simple task as it was she was sent alone. Luckily the young boy happened to be at the same stream hiding from his bullies when he heard her screams. With not a second of thought he dove into the water pulling her to safety, but badly injuring his self on the jagged rocks in the process. Siffna would doctor the boy’s cuts, and even help him back to the village only to watch him get punished for being so close to her.  The elder hated to see his loving daughter so close to the death of their village.

               Pike tried to keep his distance best he could, however she wouldn’t have it. Her hand refused to leave his. She would hunt him almost, each day seeking him out in every dark hole in the village. She would call out for him in her sweet voice always eventually he would relent and come to her side. They would sneak from the village to an old hollow tree they both found the day Pike saved her life. They would sit and talk about their future and express their love for one another.

Years passed and the two grew in love with one another, and with her at his side his exile and shunning was slowly waned.  The elder even began referring to him as his daughter’s savior. Under his reigns the huntsman never had more success his tactics in tracking, and ability to seemingly sense where the animals would nest, kept the village with a constant supply of fresh meat. Pike was now a savior and his 20th birthday was to be his finest hour. His marriage was to be celebrated his rising to the rank of nobleman was to be the nights capping ceremony.  

Alas this was not to be, for on the day of his marriage he awoke with a sick feeling in his gut. Pike knew that something was wrong that day, that there was going to be a terrible event strike his humble village. Pike rose and went to his Elder’s side begged him to close the gates, to stop all festivities. Alas the Elder only thought it was a young man’s butterflies causing him to get cold feet. Pike had no choice but to hold the wedding his betrothed and future father forced his hand. However, he did not go without his bow and blade. Most only thought he was honoring his title as Head huntsman, or perhaps he was simply honoring his father by carrying his weapon on his back.

The day drew on and all seemed well. Pike lowered his guard and even began to have fun, as he should on the day of his wedding. The time finally came at twilight that they would say there binding vows, and be locked in eternal love. However, as the elder spoke calling the sanctuary to silence a roar was heard from outside the doors. Pike drew his blade and rushed towards the door screaming orders for his huntsman to draw their arms, and for the others to fall back to the far end of the building. As he reached the door a sound of thunder seemed to crash before him, the door splintered into his face as a large battle axe misses him by inches.

“I have come to claim this land for the black bloods!”

The voice rips through the sanctum echoing off of its walls. The beast was orc in appearance, but seemed something much more evil.

“Give me your blood and I shall spare the people of your village elder!”

The voice again echoes through the building as the beast seemingly ignores all that approach. Pike disoriented and in pain swings wildly at the beast missing several times before finally hitting his mark driving his sword deep into the orcs chest. He is only met with dark laughter as the beast slaps him away flinging him through a nearby bench before ripping the blade from his chest.

“Puny creature…you dare to strike a god!”

He roars as he is on Pike in a flash. His axe blade firmly placed against his chest easily it ripped through Pikes leather tunic pressing into his flesh below.

“Leave these people be! The blood of the elder is not going to be spilled this day beast!”

Pike roars back kicking the orc in his knee knocking him face first into the ground. Pike quickly slips back onto his feet grabbing his swords from the ground charging the beast again in a blind rage.

“Leave now Siffna! Take your father and leave this place now!” Pike roars as he strikes the beast in the neck. His blade cleaves half through before the orc grabs the blade with a twisted grin.

“You…will…be…mine…your strength shall…be mine!” The orc roars as he opens his mouth revealing razor sharp fangs. He bites deep into Pike’s neck almost taking the entire thing into his large mouth. Pike begins to fall limp his blood pouring from his neck, suddenly another blade pierces the beast. It screams as it bursts into a blaze quickly burning away to ash.

“Poor boy…he was a good servant, however your courage intrigues me. Tell me boy do you want to live?” A beautiful woman clad in tight leather armor appears from the ash. Her eyes glowing yellow teeth obviously elongated, a look of pure hunger in her eyes.

“Yes…I must live…” Pike speech is gargled by the massive wound in his neck.  The dark woman growls and gives a seductive grin before dragging her wrist across a fang spilling her blood into the young Pike’s mouth.

“Now my servant you are of the night. Darkness envelops you as we speak. The only reason you shall live is to serve me. Once you have lost your purpose I shall ease you of your endless life just as I did Dragga just now. Do you understand my child?” Pike slips away from consciousness to the sounds of his beloved’s screams of agony.


End file.
